The Gift
by infirmis
Summary: How did Kalluto become so cruel? What's the underlying story behind the emotionless mask he never takes off? Read to know what's the simple event that changed everything.


_Cruelty is a gift_

"_Human emotion is a gift from our animal ancestors. Cruelty is a gift humanity has given itself."_  
– Hannibal Lector from the tv show _Hannibal_

Ants.

He hated how they always managed to get everywhere, from the most forgotten corner, to their richly decorated ceiling. He scowled at the tiny ants that were crawling on the wall right under the windows with disgust.  
People were like ants, he often thought. Annoying, always walking in colonies, blindly following their leader.  
"Kalluto-sama, it's time for Sunday's family breakfast," he heard one of his stupid maids say. How much he wanted to throw one of his pillows at her, tell her that he never cared about family breakfasts. In fact, no one of the family did, but they were all too scared to face lady Zoldyck's wrath if they skip them. So he forced himself out of bed and strolled to the bathroom.

After he finished his morning bath, three maids helped him dress up. "Which one would you like better, Kalluto-sama?" one of them chimed as the other two showed him the kimonos they were holding. "The black with pink one, or the red with black flowers?" He held his arm out to the black one, and the maids helped him slide into his clothes. Nobody dared to question his taste in clothing, or even his gender. He glanced at the windows, wishing that he was outside playing with their giant dog Dodo, and the ants caught his attention again. "You can leave now." He ordered the maids when they were done. As they closed the doors behind them he walked to the window. Slowly he knelt so he was facing the stream of ants. 'They were fascinating,' he thought as he watched them carry tiny particles with them. Food? He remembered he had slapped away his breakfast yesterday and apparently it landed in this corner, and the cleaning maids didn't do a great job. Immediately after that thought he felt a gush of anger over him. He remembered why he had refused his breakfast in the first place. He tried to ignore the flashbacks as he focused on the ants in front of him. 'Poor ants,' he thought. They need to carry things that are almost their own size and they risk getting smashed, all to please their queen.

"_You are unworthy of being called a Zoldyck unless you can open the gates of Kukuro Mountain." His father told him two days ago, on his 7__th__ birthday. "Can you do it?"  
"Of course!" he had answered enthusiastically. He'd take any of the rare opportunities he had to please his father. What could be so difficult about a gate anyway? He had trained every day and his mother had recently told him that he was probably stronger than his older brother Milky!_

He hold his hand out and allowed an ant to climb on it. Without any hesitation it continued walking in the direction the other ants were taking too. "Do you blindly follow the others or are you so confident you can find the way no matter what obstacle you're facing?" he wondered. He saw himself standing in front of the gates again.

_Father watch me and be proud. He smiled to himself as he put his hands on the thick iron gates. He started pushing and pushing. The gates wouldn't move.  
"As I expected, Killua is the only one who is gifted with so much talent at such a young age." His father muttered and turned around, about to leave. Kalluto had heard it and he felt that his insides were about to explode from rage. Why is it always Killua who gets praised? He screamed as he pushed to his limit.  
Sylva was about to walk away when he heard the gates open a bit behind him. Before he could turn around they had closed again with a loud bang and he heard the kid scream. Quickly he walked to him and asked if he was fine. Kalluto nodded and stood up. His hands ached like hell and they looked red and swollen.  
"Go rest a bit," his father Sylva said and he left. _

Kalluto knew he had failed and that he was worthless in his family's eyes. He felt something tingle on his arm and as he looked he saw one ant. "Are you lost?" He asked, even though he knew the answer won't come. Like me, he thought, but couldn't bring himself to say it. Carefully he put it back with the others. "If you don't watch out, your queen will get mad at you. All your brother will look down at you, and laugh behind your back. 'That's our brother', they'd say, 'the one that can't even carry on the task that defines us as ants.'" Kalluto stopped talking for a while. He knew the ant won't hear him, he wasn't even sure it had ears in the first place. Yet he continued. "And it will get worse for you mister Ant. 'Our queen doesn't like him so neither do we.' Everyone would think like that about you, so do your best".  
"Kallutoooooooo! Who are you talking to and why are you ignoring our breakfast!?" His mother was standing next to him in a second. "Ieeeeeeh, ants!" she screamed, and Kalluto tried his best not to cover his ears. "Maaaaaaaids, come clean them up!" And before he could protest his mother had yanked him out of the room. He saw some maids hurry inside his room carrying insecticide. For a second he felt nausea overwhelm him.  
"Psssssssst," his room got covered with the smell of insecticide, which was too strong for his hypersensitive nose.  
"Hurry there, one of them is trying to escape" one of the maids yelled. 'Oh no, Mr. Ant' Kalluto turned around but could only see the smoke coming from the tube and the maids under his window.  
"Pssssssssssssssssssst"  
"It's a tough one!"  
"Pssssssst"  
"It's finally dead."  
As his mother dragged him to the dining room he could hear the maids laugh at their victory against the powerless ants. 'Life is so unfair,' he thought. He felt the sadness about Mr. Ant's death, who had been his only friend for not longer than five minutes, fade away. In its place he felt absolutely nothing.

_**One week later **_

In front of the majestic iron gates that separated the famous Zoldyck assassin family from the rest of the world, stood a small boy, clad in a pinch black kimono. His face didn't contain any trace of emotion. Like a doll he stood there motionless for a few moments. Suddenly his hands shot for the gates and with one push, face still as emotionless as a mask, he opened them. He stepped outside, left the Zoldyck terrain for the first time, on his first mission.

At the same time his father and grandfather were silently sitting together. "The little kid is gifted" his grandfather said. Sylva could only agree. The boy had been a cause for worry lately. He had seen how he had tortured a wounded bird yesterday. "Yeah, with cruelty," he answered bitterly. He knew it was his fault somehow. He didn't have time to take care of him as he had taken care of his other sons. But what could he do? You can't take a gift away, can you? But is it really a gift? Or is it just bad parenting from his side? Whatever it was, a gift or a curse, one thing was sure: it was his fault, not the gods or their ancestors.


End file.
